


we can meet again somewhere

by LSFOREVER



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: (that's my fav tag btw), Alternate Universe - College/University, Fluff and Smut, Frottage, Hand Jobs, Kissing, M/M, Partying, honestly this is kind of cliche so idk what all to tag lmao, lmk if i need to add more, there's mentions of alcohol/blacking out from a party the night before but it doesn't go into detail
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-03
Updated: 2017-05-03
Packaged: 2018-10-27 04:11:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,900
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10801422
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LSFOREVER/pseuds/LSFOREVER
Summary: “I don't even know who he is, Niall! I just want to know his name or some - ”“So why do you keep fucking blushing while talking about him!”“You know what, fuck off! I'm gonna find him myself!”or, The morning after his party Harry wakes up naked on his bed, and there is a Polaroid photo of a stranger right beside him. Harry wants to know who is this tiny little boy that has soft fringe and a smile from heaven. He has endless hope.





	we can meet again somewhere

**Author's Note:**

  * For [](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts).



> Translation to Portuguese: [Here](https://www.wattpad.com/story/129469884-we-can-meet-again-somewhere-portuguese-version). Thank you goes to [zourrybravery](http://zourrybravery.tumblr.com/)!
> 
> Hi alffinna! I couldn't turn down a chance at writing another uni fic so I hope I did your prompt justice!
> 
> Thank you to [Ollie](http://spideysenseau.tumblr.com/) for not only being the best beta/brit-picker in the world, but also being the best friend I could ask for. (Literally if I could write lyrics I'd have three whole albums about how much I appreciate you. But since I suck at that then I guess I'll stick to dedicating fics to you *insert side-eye emoji here*.)  
> Also thank you to B! I love you more than you know!
> 
> BIG BIG BIG thank you to Silvia [melmanpur](http://melmanpur.tumblr.com/) for the beautiful manip that she so graciously made for this! You'll find it while reading.
> 
> I would also like to give a HUGE SHOUT OUT to Mica [pass-the-pencil](http://pass-the-pencil.tumblr.com/) for her amazing artwork for this fic, which you will also find nestled in the words somewhere!
> 
> (How I managed to get a manip _and_ a fan art for one (1) fic is beyond my knowledge. I'm so thankful??)  
>  Anyway. I hope you all enjoy! Xx

 

Loud music in one ear, someone yelling in his other, alcohol spilling over his hand, and someone’s hands running up and down his back, body against his.

There’s so much going on all at once, but Harry’s too intoxicated to focus on one thing for more than three seconds before the next distracts him.

-

Harry decides he never wants to wake up again.

It’s _hell_ , is what it is, with a pounding headache, mixed up stomach, and numb hands. He’d rather someone knock him out than open his eyes.

He drank way too much last night; that part he regrets. But he doesn’t regret partying. He’d just finished a big assignment that he felt pretty proud of, considering he finished it a week before it was due and it was worth a lot, and requested his roommate Niall help him throw a last minute party.

Normally their parties maybe consisted of ten to fifteen people, a few friends and whatnot, but for some reason, the word had spread last night and after an hour in, Harry had found himself surrounded by all kinds of people, everywhere. He could barely stretch his elbow out without touching someone. The music was loud (thanks to their neighbor/friend/Dj Zayn), the alcohol seemed never ending, and Harry was already tipsy enough to not worry about being too loud.

Now that he thinks back on it, he had more fun than he would have thought. Even though he doesn’t remember anything past Niall shoving three shots of tequila down Harry’s throat, there are flashes of dancing and laughing, and he knows it was a good night.

He slowly sits up, wincing when he realizes his curtains are parted enough to let sunlight in right where he’s sitting. It gives him the motivation to get up, knees creaking and feet freezing against the cold floor as he goes to shut the curtain all the way.

He’s as silent as ever, knowing Niall always wakes up before he does whenever they drink themselves stupid. He knows the outcome if he’s heard. It’s happened many times; Harry wakes up, hungover and loud as he hates himself just a little and wretches in the toilet. As soon as he’s cleaned himself him, Niall will bust in the room, just as hungover and begging Harry to make breakfast.

Normally he wouldn’t mind, a greasy breakfast sounding delicious, but this morning Harry would like some quiet time to clean himself up a little without any interruptions. So he quietly creeps to his toilet, not daring to look in the mirror as he pisses himself empty, then bends over the sink to splash water on his face.

His stomach feels normal for once, so he’s able to take his time in brushing his hair and cleaning the bad taste out of his mouth.

Knowing Niall will soon figure out he’s awake, Harry tiptoes to his closet, finding some warm clothes to bundle up in. They should start remembering to turn the heat on in the evenings, the floors icy even through Harry’s fuzzy socks.

He’s not even back to his bed when his door flies open and Niall basically tackles him to the bed. “Harry! When did you wake up you tosser?”

Harry groans, but he squirms around until Niall’s weight is beside him rather than on him, staying close for the warmth. “Few minutes ago. Needed some time to wake up before you blew my ear out.”

With sparkling eyes, Niall plants a big kiss on Harry’s cheek. “You love me and you know it. Now,” he continues, “What’s for breakfast?”

Harry rolls his eyes. “I don’t know. Do we still have food in the fridge or do I need to go out like last time?”

“There’s food, I promise. Enough for a full english. I hid it so you wouldn’t have to go out. Aren’t I the best?” Niall’s grinning ear to ear, and Harry almost rolls his eyes again.

But he’s also grateful that he won’t have to travel outside, at least not anytime soon. “Good. And how much cleaning up is there to do?”

It’s always a ritual. Ever since they got this flat together and started throwing parties, they would eat breakfast and take all day to clean up. Harry quite liked the bonding time with his best mate.

“Not much, to be honest. Liam’s passed out on the couch. He woke up for as long as it took to tell me he picked up a little.”

“Liam is an angel. He gets the most sausages.”

Surprisingly, Niall ignores the plethora of innuendos he could have made there and nods, seeming to agree. After a second he squirms, elbowing Harry’s side and reaching under himself. “Ow, quit it.” Harry elbows him back.

“Shut up, I didn’t mean to.” Niall sits upright, and Harry sees him holding a polaroid picture. Where did that come from? Harry always keeps his polaroid camera and pictures put up so they don’t get ruined.

Out of the corner of his eye, he notices his camera is sitting out on top of his dresser. What the fuck?

“What the fuck?” he says, snatching the picture out of Niall’s hand after Niall starts laughing.

What he sees makes his eyes go wide.

[ ](http://tinypic.com?ref=2vm7ey9)

There he is, arm extended out to hold the camera. He’s laying back on his bed, eyes half shut and watery and teeth showing in a laugh. He’s shirtless, chest and neck littered in marks (Harry takes a quick peek down his jumper to see that yes, he is indeed bruised up) and his arm is pressed another boy against his side.

The thing is, this boy is beautiful. His eyes are bright, even in the black and white photo, smile wide. He’s also shirtless, hair wild, a large bruise on his neck as well.

There’s no mistaking what had happened before Harry took the picture, and Harry could blame his blushing cheeks on the fact that he was drunk enough to shag a boy and take pictures with him and not remember, but truthfully his cheeks are hot because he can’t stop staring at that boy.

He’s pretty, is the thing, and also handsome, and Harry can’t stop looking at his eyes and sharp cheekbones and bright smile and smooth chest.

Flashes of bright blue eyes and dancing and close bodies fly through his brain, and he hears a distant laugh, bright and wonderful. Even though he barely remembers anything from last night, Harry does know that he spent it with a beautiful boy. He remembers feeling giddy and wonderful, and he instantly checks his phone to see if he has any new saved numbers.

“Harry? Y’alright bud?” Niall brings Harry out of his faze.

“Yeah, yeah,” he answers, pouting when he doesn’t see any new numbers. “Just remembered a little from last night.”

“Lucky you, I don’t remember anything past that tequila. Also, who’s the new boy?” He looks smug, and Harry bats at his arm.

“I don’t know - ” Niall’s stomach makes a loud noise, saving Harry from having to explain any further. “C’mon, let’s go make breakfast.”

Niall seems to forget about the picture altogether, jumping up and racing down the hall.

Harry stuffs the photo in his pocket, slowly following.

The thing is, he can’t get the cute boy out of his head. All through making breakfast, the picture burns a hole through his pocket, those eyes in the back of his mind. He’s distracted, and Niall can tell because as he’s toasting the bread, he turns to Harry and asks, “Mate, you’ve been quiet. What’s up?”

What’s up is he has a beautiful person on his mind and he’s irritated because he didn’t even get the boy’s number, stupid drunk self.

Sighing, Harry answers, “Can’t stop thinking about that picture. That boy is cute _okay_ ,” Harry presses at the start of Niall’s smirk. “I remember a little bit, but I don’t remember a name and I never got his number.”

“Babe, you barely spent a night with him and you were drunk off your arse. How do you know he wasn’t a stuck up prick or something?”

Although Niall has a point, Harry knows that isn’t true. He never gets his favourite camera out when other people are around, especially when he’s drunk. That’s for his own private time, when he’s down. Photography has always been a big part in Harry’s life, especially the camera his grandfather gave him before passing. He’s only ever let Niall use it once, and rarely gets it out around other people.

The fact that he took a picture of him and another boy, half naked and cuddling, makes him want to know this boy even more.

“Niall, I took a picture of us with my granddad’s camera. I don’t think he’s a stuck up dick. We had fun, and I really liked him. I don’t know… I just can’t stop thinking about it.”

That seems to make sense to Niall, who nods and grips Harry’s shoulder tight. “Mate, I’m sure you had a blast. And I’m sorry you didn’t get his number. You were both probably too drunk for that.”

“You’re right…” Harry sighs in defeat.

“And if you’re really desperate, I’m sure it wouldn’t be too hard to find him on Facebook.” Harry perks up at the thought, eyes now glued to Niall. “He’s bound to be in one of the school's groups or summat.”

“What’s goin’ on?” a grumbly Liam comments from the entryway of the kitchen, rubbing his eyes like a kitten.

“Breakfast! That’s what,” Niall crows. He winks at Harry, and Harry silently thanks him. Not that he would mind if Liam knew, he is Harry’s second closest mate after all, but he’d rather stuff his tummy full right now.

“Liam, the flat doesn’t look completely trashed, thanks to you, and for that you get first pick and as many sausages as you want.”

Niall is waggling his eyebrows this time, but Liam ignores him and has heart eyes as he rushes to grab a plate. “I knew cleaning up instead of sleeping would be worth it in the end.”

Harry and Niall both chuckle at that, and they both soon follow Liam in filling their plates with hot food.

 

Later, as Harry is scrubbing a spill stain out of the rug in the living room, singing along to whatever soundtrack Niall has playing, the boy’s face randomly pops into his head and he nearly stops. He can’t help it. Ever since Niall mentioned finding him on Facebook, it’s all he can think about. What if he does find him? Would the boy even remember him? Would he think Harry’s a creep for trying to find him and talk to him?

The internal battle must be visible on his face because when Niall walks in, he smirks and says, “Thinking about pretty boy again?”

“Shut up,” Harry snaps back, though there’s no venom behind his words. “I don't even know who he is, Niall! I just want to know his name or some - ”

“So why do you keep fucking blushing while talking about him!”

“You know what, fuck off! I'm gonna find him myself!” Harry turns back and starts scrubbing at the rug again, this time much more aggressively.

“Oh Haz,” Niall coos. Harry feels fingers scratching at his shoulder comfortingly. “You know I’m only taking the piss. If you really want to find this guy then just say the word. I know at least one person in each year and each department. It can’t be that hard.”

While the offer is nice, Harry is still a bit iffy on finding the lad. He is feeling a little desperate, but he also doesn’t want to be That One Creep. What is he supposed to say when they do meet? “ _Hey, I know this is creepy but we had a one-night stand at my party and I have a picture to prove it and I think you’re sexy as fuck, can I buy you some coffee?_ ” No. He doesn’t want to scare the boy off.

“Thank you Ni, you’re the best. But I think I’ll just search Facebook first. If that fails then oh well. Worth the try, right?”

“If you say so, but the offer still stands. Now, if we hurry maybe we can set up for a Netflix marathon and spend the evening stalking Facebook.”

That perks Harry right up. They’re in the middle of the sixth season of Shameless and Harry will always say yes to watching more.

-

Facebook turns out to be no help. They search every group they know of that has to do with the uni, as well as on Twitter and Instagram. Harry only pouts for the next three days.

And he’s always keeping his eyes on high alert whenever he’s walking around campus, smiling at everybody that he makes eye contact with, hoping he spots the man. He even sits on a bench not too far from the campus’ crowded coffee vendor, sipping his tea and people-watching from behind his sunglasses. He probably looks ridiculous; the sun isn’t out, yet the glasses are dark enough that nobody can see what he’s looking at.

At one point, he thinks he spots a familiar tuffle of fringe and sits up straight, eyes zoned in. It turns out to be one of the professors, Harry realizes, and he slumps back down grumpily.

Liam and Zayn, who are over almost all the time, seem to notice his grumpy mood. It’s been five days since the party, and they’re about to go out for their Wednesday tradition (spending the evening in this dumpy bar across town), when Harry makes the mistake of letting Zayn see the picture laying on top of his dresser.

“What’s this?”

Harry looks up from the jeggings he’s pulling on and nearly falls flat on his face while waddling over to snatch the picture out of Zayn’s hands. “Nothing, just something I found.” His cheeks are hot and puts it in the top drawer of the dresser, before pulling his pants up the rest of the way.

Zayn quirks his eyebrow but doesn’t say anything, shrugging and going to find a shirt out of Harry’s closet for him to wear. There’s a calculating look in his eyes, but Harry refuses to say anything else as he finishes getting ready.

Niall and Liam trickle in a minute later, chatting about something that Harry tunes out while he pulls on his favorite pair of boots.

He just doesn’t know how to explain the picture to Zayn without sounding stupid. Zayn usually doesn’t tease like Niall, but it’s still odd to just say, “ _Yeah, so I shagged him and took a picture of us with my favorite camera and now I’m desperate to find him but it’s not working well so I’m not happy_.” Even he would laugh if he heard someone say that.

“Harry, it’s just a jacket, you don’t have to yank it on like it killed your sister,” Liam interrupts his thoughts.

Harry focuses, realizing he was being a bit aggressive with his jacket.

“Are you alright man? You’ve been acting a little off lately,” adds Zayn.

Is he alright? No. Is he going to admit to that? Also no.

But then Niall ruins it by saying, “My god Harry, I’ll tell them then! He’s got a crush on a guy that he barely knows. Shagged ‘im at the party, doesn’t even remember ‘im. But he’s desperate to find the lad.”

He glares at Niall. _Traitor_ , he hopes his eyes portray, but Niall just shrugs smugly. Liam and Zayn just so happen to be Harry’s best friends as well, and there’s no way he could have kept this from them. At least not for much longer.

They tease the hell out of him the whole way to the pub, and by the time they get there Harry has told the story and hates every single one of them. “You’re all buying my drinks tonight, wankers,” he mumbles as they stumble in.

And of course Steve, their usual bartender is there, greeting them with wide grin and, “Boys!”

Thankfully the banter dies down as they sidle up to the bar, enough room for the four of them. Steve is there in an instant, already knowing their orders and getting them instantly. “I feel like it’s been forever!”

“It’s only been a week,” Liam reminds him, and they all chuckle.

Catching up is always nice, and two hours in Harry is already well on his way to drunk. He wasn’t kidding when he said he wasn’t paying for his drinks tonight, and after telling his story to Steve, he gets another on the house. “Only ‘cause you’re drunk and sad buddy. Don’t expect these all the time.”

“You’re the best Steve.” Harry smiles up at him. “You have nice long hair and you don’t make fun of me like my loser friends.”

“Well you’re always the cleanest of the group so I like you just a little more,” he teases, “Now, go back to the booth with your loser friends. I’ve got to at least look like I’m working.”

Harry loves that man so much.

He goes back to the booth, plopping down nearly in Liam’s lap, only to realise he interrupted a conversation.

“Wha’s goin’ on?” he nearly shouts.

Niall’s cheeks are red, Zayn has a blank look on his face, and Liam looks confused.

“I’m just not looking to pull tonight s’all,” Niall says, and even though Harry doesn’t know the topic, he’s still thrown off guard.

Harry’s eyes zero in on the blond. “That sounds so bizarre coming from your mouth, and that’s not just the alcohol talkin’.” He knows his best friend, and he also knows that even though it’s a lad’s night, Niall always ends up chatting up some pretty person by the end of the night, even if he doesn't take them home. He just enjoys flirting.

“Yeah, well. Maybe I’ve been trying to chat one person up this past week. And before you ask, no, I’m not going to say who. Now can we please change the topic?”

He’s serious, Harry can tell, so he nods and shoves his drink in Liam’s face, chanting, “Try it, try it, try it!”

-

“Yes, mum, I have checked Facebook. I already said that.” Harry rolls his eyes but he’s smiling.

He’d decided to call his mum and tell her as well, needing someone outside of the picture to talk to about it. It took him the whole trek from his last class to the uni coffee cart to explain, and it’s as he’s walking away with a steaming cuppa that he’s finally finished.

“Well, love, you sound like you’re in a right predicament. I wish I could help you sort this out.” She sighs. She was amused at first, of course, but she’s sympathetic and caring now. “Just please be careful if you do find this young man. Maybe you did spend the night together, but people are always different when they’re inebriated.”

“I know mum, thank you,” he answers, “And thank you for understanding. Niall and them have only taken the piss and it was kind of irritating.”

“Oh love - ” Harry doesn’t get the chance to hear the rest before someone bumps into his back, knocking the tea out of his hand. It bursts all over the sidewalk, and he doesn’t even glance at who knocked into him, too sad staring at his wasted drink.

“Hun? What’s happened?” his mum asks, sounding concerned.

“Just dropped m’tea. Can I call you back later?”

“Sure sweetie, take care,” Anne says, “Love you.”

“Love you too.”

After pocketing his mobile, Harry turns, finally looking at the stranger, and he freezes.

What are the chances that the boy he’s been pining over for the past week is the one standing in front of him right now, spewing apologies and looking like a nervous wreck as he picks Harry’s ruined cup up and tosses it into the nearest rubbish bin?

Harry can’t quite believe his eyes, and he shakes his head a little to try and make sure he’s seeing correctly. Sure enough, the man is standing right there in front of him, eyes the brightest blue Harry has ever seen. They’re just like in the picture, except better because there’s a color to them now.

He’s biting his cute lip, looking like a worried mother, silent and just staring right back at Harry. He’s even more beautiful than in the photo, more beautiful than Harry remembers.

“I’ll buy you a new one,” that beautiful, raspy voice rings out, “I am so sorry again. I wasn’t looking where I was going. I hope I didn’t interrupt a serious phone call either.”

Not knowing what to do, Harry opens and closes his mouth a couple times, barely a squeak coming out the last time, before he manages to blurt, “Your eyes are beautiful.”

He clasps a hand over his mouth, surprised at his own words. Those already rosy cheeks turn even more red, and the man smiles sheepishly with his hand over his chest, eyes locked with Harry's. “I just wasted your tea and you compliment my eyes?”

[ ](http://tinypic.com?ref=2hyce3c)

“Mhm.” And after a second’s thought, finally clearing his head and realizing this is real and actually happening, Harry says, “And I’ll take you up on that offer for another tea, if that’s alright?”

The man nods, grabbing Harry’s wrist and dragging him back to the cart. “Of course, of course,” he’s saying, although Harry is more focused on the skin on skin contact, that hand soft and small around his wrist. Harry rattles off his order again once, and not even two minutes later he’s walking away again with fresh tea warming his hands.

“I’m Louis, by the way,” he - Louis says, and Harry’s eyes go a little wide as he remembers hearing Louis say the same exact words at the party. Except this time those soft lips aren’t brushing his ear and sending chills down his spine.

“I’m Harry,” he croaks out, and manages a smile at the lad. He’s more nervous than he thought he would be. But then again, Harry hadn’t really thought he’d ever meet him again, let alone how he would react if he did.

Louis’ face kind of scrunches up a little. He peers up at Harry, looking like he’s thinking, and Harry bites his lip. “Do I know you?” asks Louis, and he feels himself go even more red.

What does he say? _What does he say?_

He almost freaks out a little, before he reminds himself that he’s already been in Louis’ pants, even if neither of them remember that happening. There’s no reason for Harry to not try and sweep Louis off his feet right here.

Looking Louis in the eyes, he puts on his brightest smile and says, “Yeah, actually. We met at a party of mine last Friday.” He gives it a second, watching as Louis’ eyes widen in surprise before confusion and realization roll over his expressions. His eyes go even wider, and his cheeks turn red, and Harry continues with a smug smile, voice low, “I hope you’re remembering now because I had a lot of fun that night. And I was hoping I could convince you to get some lunch with me?”

Louis sputters, cheeks warm and fringe looking so soft that Harry just wants to comb his fingers through it. And he looks so adorable when he bites the inside of his cheek nervously like that, fingers picking at the bottom of his cup like he’s not sure what to say.

“Please?” adds Harry, tacking on, “You can choose and I’ll buy?”

“Well Harold,” Louis finally responds, and his smile is heavenly. Harry is hopelessly endeared. “I will always say yes to free food. You ever been to that thai place by the local library?”

He knows just the one and nods. It’s a bit far to walk, but he knows Zayn doesn’t have class right now and won’t be driving his car. He wouldn’t mind Harry borrowing it, would he?

“‘S just Harry and I’ve been there plenty and I love it. Unfortunately I walked on campus today. Would you mind a short walk back to mine so we can take my car?” he lies.

Louis’ eyes shine, and he takes a step closer to Harry, murmuring, “Show me the way, just Harry.”

He rolls his eyes, shooting a quick text to Zayn. He doesn’t remember Louis being this cheeky at the party, but he also doesn’t mind one bit.

Louis sidles up next to him after he turns and starts walking in the direction of his flat, and Harry takes a long sip of his tea before asking, “So, Louis. How have I never seen you around campus before?”

There’s that smile again, directed right at Harry, and he feels his stomach flip. “If you must know, I’m studying journalism so my classes are all early morning, but I’m living off campus with a family friend. So I’m usually only around when I’m walking between classes.” He shoots over a smile, again, and adds, “Glad I decided to get some coffee this morning.”

“Me too.”

“Well Harold.” Louis seems to like that name. Harry doesn’t mind. “What about you then? What are you studying?”

“Psychology.” At the downward tilt to Louis’ mouth, Harry chuckles. “It’s not that bad, I promise.”

“You’re not going to evaluate my every move and read my mind like crazy, are you?” Harry can tell Louis is teasing, and he rolls his eyes.

“I wasn’t planning on it, no.”

They chat like that on the way to Harry’s flat, about their classes and uni lives. Louis is renting a place with an old childhood friend whose family used to live right next door, and he walks to class every morning at eight am. Harry gawks at that, barely used to getting up before nine, let alone already been in class by eight.

Harry tells Louis about living with Niall, and Zayn living next door and Liam not too far down the street. He tell him about his classes, assuring Louis that he doesn’t fall asleep in all his classes. He’s so entranced in hearing Louis’ voice that when he comes to a stop in front of his building, he doesn’t notice Zayn already standing outside, a cigarette between his lips. Harry’s glad he was awake and saw his text.

“Oh Zayn, hi,” he greets, quickly taking the keys that the man holds out. When Zayn raises a questioning eyebrow, clearly having recognized Louis (Harry may have let him look at the photo again the other night), Harry nods his head, says, “Thanks love,” and turns back.

Louis smiles, opening his mouth in Zayn’s direction, but Harry interrupts, “Better get going then, that Thai’s not gonna eat itself.”

Thankfully Louis doesn’t question it, just waves at Zayn and rounds the car to the passenger side. Once they're seatbelted in and Harry’s turned down the road, Louis looks over and finally asks, “So who was that?”

“Zayn.” Harry contemplates on whether he should tell Louis that this actually isn’t his car. If this lunch date goes well, he doesn’t want Louis to think he’s a liar later on. “This is his car, actually. He lets me borrow it if he’s not busy.”

Louis fake-gasps, making Harry giggle. “And here I thought a tall, handsome, young man with his own car had asked me out on a date. Maybe I should go back and chat up that Zayn guy instead.”

Even in their short 20 minutes of knowing each other, for the second time, Harry is already craving Louis’ full attention. Louis’ just great to be around, his smile pulling Harry in more and more. He’s glad he ran into him.

“Please don’t. He may look like a greek god but he’s horrible, I promise. Lazy and selfish and - ”

“You also said he’s your best friend, and you have decent judgement so he can’t be that bad.”

Harry glances over, giving Louis a puzzled look. “What makes you think I have decent judgement? You’ve only just met me for the second time.”

“Well,” Louis starts, “Considering you chose me to dance with and shag at your party last week and then bribed me into coming on a date with you? I’d say your judgement is pretty spot-on.”

He’s glad they’re pulling into the parking lot, because Harry lets out a bark of a laugh, and he quickly covers his mouth, still giggling into it as he parks the car. “You think very highly of yourself. I find that endearing,” he admits, “Also, I’m glad you consider this a date.”

“I think I’m a very attractive man, if I do say so myself. But I’ll only consider this a date if you properly woo me Harry. So please, can we go inside because I’m starving.”

His stomach is flipping again, and Harry has to tear his eyes away from Louis’ blue eyes (and deliciously pink lips) so he can get out, run around the car quickly, and open the door for Louis.

“Such a gentleman,” Louis playfully says.

They’re quiet as they go inside and are seated. Harry as subtly as possible shifts so he’s following behind the host and Louis, sneaking a glance at that glorious bum. It gives him another flashback, a memory of feeling that plush bum under his fingertips, how smooth the skin felt, their lips locked.

It makes him flush down to his toes, and he shakes his head to rid himself of the thought as they are seated.

It’s too late though, because after the host walks away, Louis takes one glance at Harry and raises his eyebrows. “Y’alright there mate? You’re all red.”

There’s no point in lying, so Harry just chuckles, eyes focused on the menu in front of him. “Yeah, just remembered a little more of the party is all.”

The silence stretches on, enough that Harry is forced to look up, only to see Louis’ eyes a little more dilated than before. His voice is quiet as he says, “I’ve remembered a few more things too. None that I’d like to say out loud with people around, of course, but I do think I remember a camera…?” he trails off.

This makes Harry blush, and he nods, eyes darting away. “Yeah, um, I don’t remember what happened, but when I woke up the next morning I found a polaroid of us on my bed. It was from the chest up, I promise,” he’s quick to say after Louis’ eyes go a little wide. “It’s actually quite amusing. I wish I had it with me to show you.”

“Maybe… you could show me after lunch?” Louis suggests not-so-subtly, and Harry nearly jumps out of his seat to hug Louis.

Instead, he nods, smiling and answering, “I’d love to.”

The rest of lunch goes about the same. They both order, and Harry asks Louis if he has any siblings, that taking up most of the conversation. ( _He has five sisters and a brother_ , Harry stores away in his mind. What a crazy household). While they’re eating, Harry tells Louis about his sister, how she’s living in Milan right now, and how he wishes he could go see her so bad. They sit there for almost an hour, just chatting about each other, sharing smiles and laughs.

Harry almost wants to run off to the loo to scream at Niall through text about how well it’s going. He chooses to stay, getting to see Louis smile so wide as a mother walks by with a baby in her arms.

They’re giggling about a pun Harry made as they’re walking back outside to the car, and after turning back onto the road, Harry nervously asks, “Still wanna come back to mine?”

“Of course. I have to see this alleged picture of us Harold!” Louis crows, giggling after Harry rolls his eyes.

He seems to do that a lot with Louis, not that he minds.

Over the course of lunch, Harry was able to remember a few more things from that night. Like how Louis practically dragged him down the hallway and almost into the wrong room in his haste to tear Harry’s shirt off. He doesn’t remember why, but it popped into his brain and made him squirm in his seat right in front of the waiter. He also remembers hearing Louis beg to see the picture even though it hadn’t fully developed yet, their bodies pressed from head to toe, hot under the covers.

For some reason he can’t get them out of his mind as he finds a parking spot outside his building.

Louis’ talking about how one of his classes requires him to have his own camera or check one out from the media center (“It’s journalism, Harry, I have to take pictures too), but Harry isn’t entirely paying attention as they climb the stairs to the third floor.

“Harry, please, if I’m boring you just say so.” Louis doesn’t look or sound offended, more amused, Harry shakes his head a little.

“Sorry,” he murmurs.

“What’s your pretty little head distracted about, hm?” Harry can feel Louis’ presence behind him as he unlocks the door, and he shakes his head, forcing down a shiver and letting them both in.

Niall isn’t home, and Harry is grateful, pulling out his phone to see he’d texted half an hour ago. _Hanging out w z_ , it says.

Harry lets a breath out, kicking his shoes off and offering to take Louis’ jacket from him. “Well, welcome to my humble abode,” he says a little nervously.

Louis’ eyes light up as he takes a look around, eyes scanning over the large-ish front living area that sinks into the dining area and the kitchen. “I remember this! I was basically plastered when I was dragged here, but I remember finding the kitchen right away and drinking even more than I should have.”

“Really? I was already halfway there then Niall forced tequila down my throat. That must’ve been before you got there because all I remember is downing four shots in the kitchen one second, and then dancing behind you the next.” He doesn’t realize what he’s said until he sees Louis’ darkened eyes staring right back at him.

“We were right about here, weren’t we,” he mumbles, voice low as he steps into Harry’s personal space. “I think I remember dancing with one of my girl friends when I saw you.”

Harry takes a deep breath, able to faintly smell the cologne Louis must’ve put on this morning. He feels intoxicated, eyes boring back into Louis’ as he nearly closes the distance between them. “Yeah? All I remember turning around and you were right there… You looked really hot. You _look_ really hot.”

“I’m sorry Harry,” Louis says abruptly, his fingers snaking around the back of Harry’s neck, pulling their faces close. “I’d love to see the rest of the flat and that photo, but I really need to kiss you and I don’t think it can wait any longer.”

Harry doesn’t even say anything, just grabs Louis by the waist and dips in, pressing a gentle kiss to those pretty lips. It sends butterflies through him, his fingers tightening around Louis’ waist as he presses deeper. Louis is so responsive, his hand sliding up to tangle in Harry’s curls as he huffs a breath, lips sliding with just as much enthusiasm as Harry’s own. It’s sweet and hot all at once, and Harry lets his tongue sneak out to brush across Louis’ bottom lip.

He isn’t surprised when Louis flicks his own tongue across Harry’s mouth, but he still gasps, his knees feeling weak when Louis deepens the kiss even more.

Maybe it’s not smart to fall into bed with a man that he barely knows, for a second time, but Harry can’t stop kissing Louis, thumbs digging into the soft flesh of his hip bones under his t-shirt. Louis’ lips are so soft and giving against his, and he uses his tongue just the right amount, and his fingertips are scratching at Harry’s scalp and making him shiver.

Harry is glad that they’re both sober this time, and he’s able to make the executive decision to (painfully) pull away and whisper, “Bedroom?”

“Please,” Louis replies, eyes locking with Harry’s. He’s biting his lip in a seductive way.

Harry is weak with it, fingers lacing with Louis’ as he guides the way down to the right bedroom. He’s barely shut his bedroom door behind them before Louis pressing him into the wall, their lips meeting in another frenzy of heated kisses.

Harry’s thigh slips between Louis’, and he kisses deeper, snaking his fingers around and down to squeeze Louis’ beautiful bum. Louis gasps, letting Harry cop a feel and guide the kiss for a second, before Harry feels his fingers yanking at his curls.

It’s Harry’s turn to gasp, a small, “Lou,” falling from his lips as Louis kisses down his throat, latching on and sucking right on his adam’s apple. It feels amazing, and Harry feels himself start to fatten up in his jeans right against Louis’ thigh. He feels too turned on, almost overwhelmed as Louis starts sucking another mark into his neck.

How did he go from buying tea, to snogging Louis against his bedroom wall barely two hours later?

“Lou,” he says again when Louis’ presses his thigh forward. He’s short and adorable, but he also knows what he wants, and Harry is so unbelievably attracted to him.

Louis is starting to chub up in his pants too, Harry can feel, and Harry grabs more handfuls of that glorious arse, pushing Louis against him. This causes Louis to gasp, and Harry catches those lips in another round of heated kisses.

“So fucking hot, Harry,” Louis says against his lips, fingers scratching at his scalp, tugging a little and making Harry whimper.

Harry manages to mumble, “You are, yeah,” earning a quick chuckle.

He’s already addicted to kissing Louis, to feeling their bodies pressed this close, so he almost doesn’t want to push Louis away. The bed sounds more comfortable than the wall though, so Harry forces himself to grab Louis’ hips and wrench him away a few inches.

Before Louis can argue or say anything, Harry is planting a quick kiss to his lips and then dragging him across the small room. The back of his legs hit the bed and he falls back, bringing Louis down on top of him. They’re instantly back to kissing, Louis settling with his legs straddling Harry’s hips, arms holding him up on either side of Harry’s head.

Harry’s almost fully hard in an instant when Louis settles, his bum rocking over Harry’s crotch. It feels amazing, and they’re still fully clothed. He can’t imagine what it’ll feel like when they’re naked.

As Louis starts kissing down the side of Harry’s neck, Harry slips his fingers under the back of those jeans, under the briefs too. Louis’ skin is smooth and hot, and Harry grabs as much of that arse as he can in the confines, rocking up against the man.

It comes as a surprise when Louis sits up abruptly, only to tug his jacket off, shirt following, leaving his chest bare for Harry to ogle at. “C’mon, up,” Louis almost begs, until Harry shifts them up the bed, his head on the pillows. He follows suit, ridding himself of his shirt, and then catches eye of the bulge in Louis’ pants.

He can’t help himself, reaches up to rub his palm over Louis’ erection, feeling himself twitch at the soft huff Louis lets out, his blue blue eyes twinkling down at Harry in awe. Louis rocks into his hand, biting his lip down at Harry, almost like he’s daring him, and Harry is so on board. Quickly he unfastens Louis’ jeans, tucking his fingers into them and his briefs as Louis lifts his hips up.

And damn it, Harry wishes he could have remembered this cock. Because it’s _pretty_ . It curves up perfectly, foreskin stretched obscenely over the pink tip, and he’s not even fully hard but Harry would like to get his hand on him _yesterday_.

Which he does, and Louis’ resounding sigh is music to Harry’s ears. He grips him gently at first, thumbing over the tip, then tightening his grip when Louis’ eyelashes flutter.

He doesn’t know where to look; Louis’ cock looks amazing slipping through his hand as he slowly starts to jack him off, but his eyes are piercing down at Harry, lip caught between his teeth. And Harry wants to kiss him so bad, so he does, pulling Louis down for a scorching kiss as he pulls Louis off faster, thumbing at the precome at his head to help glide the way a little more.

And Louis kisses hurriedly, like there’s a fire he’s running away from, or maybe he’s _chasing_ it, starting to rock his hips so he pushes in Harry’s hand and rocks back against his erection.

It feels amazing, but Harry knows it could be better, so he slows his hand and the kiss, creeping both hands around to squeeze Louis’ arse, playing with his cheeks at his own free will. Louis lets him, licking into Harry’s mouth and sending heat flicking through his body, down to his groin.

“Nnngh,” he mewls when Louis sneaks his own hand between them, rubbing over Harry and nipping along his jaw to his ear.

“Please,” Louis whispers in his ear, and Harry shudders as he nods, lifting his hips to shove down his own jeans. “God, H,” continues Louis, taking Harry in his hand and stroking over him at a torturously slow pace. “Beautiful.”

Harry feels himself blush, catching Louis’ eyes and smiling. “You’re beautiful,” he counters, squeezing Louis’ cheeks and crushing their bodies together again. Louis’ hand falls away from him but their cocks slide together, smooth and creating the perfect amount of friction. “God,” Harry crows.

Louis agrees, “Yeah,” rocking over him, and Harry snakes a hand between them to wrap around both of them, the feeling even more wonderful.

Harry doesn’t even have to do anything, Louis holding himself up over Harry and rocking down into his hand, sliding them together, and he could lay here forever watching this. (He can only imagine how much hotter it would be if Louis were riding him like this).

The thought makes him moan, squeezing his grip, feeling Louis’ hips stutter the way they do. As Louis picks up his pace, Harry pulls him down, kissing him hard. He licks his way into Louis’ mouth almost disgustingly, but he feels like he’s on fire from head to toe and he needs to let it out somehow.

And Louis just takes it, just lets Harry kiss him however he wants, and Harry can already feel that heat in his abdomen, low but taking over his senses. He’s barely been touched this whole time, but Louis just makes him feel so overwhelmed, so _hot_ and _needy_ and _crazy_ for it.

“Lou,” he whispers in the kiss, Louis’ hips stuttering over him, then going faster.

“Yeah babe, fuck, I’ve got you.” And then he sits back, batting Harry’s hand away to take over. He thrusts into the tight ring, moving over Harry and making him feel like he’s burning. Louis is so sexy, lips red and swollen, eyes almost spacey, hair mussed, and muscles contracting as he works them over. His tan skin is so smooth, and Harry wants to touch it for days, wants to have Louis around him always.

He’s close, and he takes Louis’ other hand, slipping two fingers in his mouth and sucking. Louis’ eyes bulge, a loud noise slipping from his lips like he can’t help it, stripping them both faster and tighter.

“Fuck me, Harry, you’re a god,” Louis moans.

Though he may not have meant it like that, Harry thinks about that arse, about bending him in half and taking Louis apart by his cock, the tight heat around him and being _so close_ to the man. Harry groans at his own dirty thoughts around Louis’ fingers, feeling them press down on his tongue, the fire in the pit of his stomach growing and tearing him apart from the inside.

He comes so fast he doesn’t even realize it, is moaning, eyes squeezed shut as he spurts come over the both of them. Maybe he should feel bad for not warning Louis, but he’s barely came down before gripping Louis tight, using his come to slick the way as he jerks him off. Louis barely gives him a warning before he’s spilling, shooting up Harry’s tummy, an expletive falling from his lips loudly. He’s so beautiful, his ‘o’ face perfect.

They lay there together, quiet as they catch their breath. It’s warm and sticky, but Harry doesn’t want to get up just yet, feeling too sated and somehow comfortable.

They’re startled a moment later when Harry’s phone goes off in his jeans, shrill against the quiet air. Louis lifts his head up, eyes locking with Harry’s, and he looks just as happy as Harry feels. “Y’wanna check that?” he asks innocently.

“Nah,” replies Harry, letting out a yawn after. “Need to go get a flannel and some water.”

Louis’ head drops to Harry’s neck again, and he snuggles in. “Don’t wanna get up.” His words are sluggish.

A nap does sound amazing, Harry admits, but he convinces Louis to roll over a couple minutes later so he can clean them up. He comes back with water, Louis happily drinking down half the glass, and yelps when arms wrap around his waist and pull him down to the bed not even a second after he sets the glass down.

“Can we nap please?” Louis begs, voice just a whisper, and Harry’s already nodding before he’s even done with the sentence.

Harry pulls Louis close, slotting their lips together for one last, lazy kiss, before Louis rolls over, their bodies slotting together perfectly. It’s a tad warm, even in the cold room, but Harry snuggles closer. He noses at the back of Louis’ neck, breathing in his cozy scent and feeling happier than he has all week.

They’re both out before they can even process it.

 

**Two Years Later**

 

Harry’s whistling some tune he’s got stuck in his head, hips swaying as he reaches around Louis to grab the wooden spoon. The boiling pot of homemade spaghetti sauce in front of him is almost done, and he peeks over to see Louis stirring the spaghetti one last time before pouring it into a large bowl.

The timer on the oven goes off, and Louis shoves Harry out of the way to take the bread out.

“Heeyyy,” he drawls, but he’s smiling, pinching Louis’ bum as he comes up behind him. “It looks delicious babe.”

There’s a loud roar of laughter in the living room from the other three boys, making Harry smile. It’s only been a few weeks since their last Lads Night, but he’s missed this. He’s missed cooking a large meal with Louis, missed hearing the boys in the other room, missed watching a stupid movie after and catching up.

Usually they’ll plan for one night a week, but with Harry’s photography business kicking off and Niall and Zayn moving into a bigger flat (who have been together for almost a year now), they haven’t managed to find a night where they are all free or not passed out from exhaustion.

Harry can’t wipe the smile off his face as he sets up the food on the counter.

“What’s got you all smiley, huh?”

He looks up at his boyfriend, feeling his heart pound out of his chest. They’ve been together for two years now, and Harry couldn’t be happier. After that second fateful meeting, Louis somehow managed to worm his way into Harry’s life, faster than anybody else ever had. They were official not even a month later, and have been together since. They now have their own flat and their own car.

“Just thinking, is all,” he answers, pulling Louis in for a hug. “I’m happy, you know.”

“Oh Harry, you’re just all sorts of sappy right now. I’m happy too of course.” Louis hugs back just as tight, and that’s when the boys decide to come running in.

Niall is red in the face, stopping to clutch his stomach as he laughs even harder. Zayn looks highly amused, hand resting on Niall’s hip, and Liam walks up to them to shove a picture in their face.

“Look at what Niall found!” he crows.

Harry takes it, eyes focusing on the polaroid picture from two years ago. He’ll never be able to forget this image, but he takes it all in anyway, letting Louis take it to examine it too. They’re quite adorable, if he does say so himself. He exchanges a small smile with Louis, before snapping his head over to Niall.

“So you think you can just go through my old stuff, Ni?”

“Oh shut up,” Niall wheezes out. His eyes are twinkling, smirking between Harry and Louis. “You fucking kept that thing this whole time?”

“I’ll have you know that it will be in our wedding announcements and on our gravestones,” Louis snaps back, though he’s smiling just as wide.

“You two are such dorks,” Zayn comments.

Liam chimes in a second later, calling them vampires because of all the marks they both have in the picture, and that sends Niall into another round of laughter.

“D’you think we should just burn the picture?” Harry whispers in Louis’ ear, his eyes trained on the other three as they all crowd around the picture to make fun of it.

Louis turns to him, pulling them together and looking mildly upset. “Never. I love that thing just as much as you do. Let them laugh all they want, but we’re keeping that until we’re dead.”

Harry’s heart swells, and he’s unable to resist pecking Louis all over his face and lips. “I love you so much,” he says, ignoring the ew that comes from Liam.

“I love you more, Harold,” replies Louis, and then he smiles and jerks his head towards the food. “Think we should start eating then before they go crazy?”

“Absolutely.”

 

Harry manages to sneak Louis away for a few minutes, dragging him to their bedroom to pull out his camera. Thinking about the picture during dinner made Harry want to take another one, so he stole the first one back, and it’s hiding in his back pocket right now. “How about another one?” he asks softly, eyes lit up as he stares at Louis.

“Yeah, of course.” By now Louis should be used to Harry taking photos of him, and Harry is glad that he agrees so easily.

His heart pounds as he pulls Louis close, pressing a kiss to his forehead, and then turning to the camera. Quietly, he whispers, “1, 2, 3,” and then presses the button, the polaroid camera clicking before is starts printing out the picture. At first it comes out white, like always, but Harry holds Louis closer, cheek on his forehead while they both wait for it to develop.

Soon, the image starts appearing, and already Harry can tell it’s going to be adorable.

“We’re fucking dorks,” Louis comments, but he’s giggling, and Harry smiles too.

“We are, but we’re adorable,” Harry agrees.

Then, he sets the camera down and takes out the first photo from his pocket, holding it next to the new one.

They’ve both changed since then, Harry with much shorter hair and Louis sporting more stubble now, but they have the same crinkly smiles on their face. It’s surreal, seeing them side-by-side like this, from the time they first met, until now, two years later. Harry loves Louis so damn much. Yes, they’ve had their differences,ups and downs, but they always pull through, even stronger than before.

“I can see why they call us gross.” Louis is teasing, eyes bright as he finally takes his eyes off the photos and peers up at Harry. “We’re pretty fucking gross. But I love us just the way we are.”

“Now look who’s being sappy.” Louis smacks Harry’s arm, but they both laugh and fall into each other. “I love us too, especially how gross we are. Wouldn’t trade it for anything in the world.”

Louis kisses him, soft and gentle, and Harry feels weak at the knees. He can never get over how _happy_ Louis makes him feel.

“Harry! Louis! Stop fucking and get out here!” comes Zayn’s voice from down the hall.

Harry sighs into the kiss, leaving one last peck to Louis’ lips before pulling back. “We’re hiding these, and they won’t be able to find them this time.”

Louis takes the photos, says, “I’ll get it love, you go pick a movie for us to watch, yeah?”

“Yeah.” Harry peeks over his shoulder as he’s leaving the room; he can’t resist watching Louis. When Louis catches his eyes, he shoos him off, and Harry runs down the hall giggling

 

~fin~

**Author's Note:**

> any mistakes are all mine!
> 
> as always, comments are always my fav thing to wake up to! here is a [rebloggable post](http://harrystinyshorts.tumblr.com/post/163870376289/we-can-meet-again-somewhere-89k-by-lsforever), and you can follow me on [tumblr](http://harrystinyshorts.tumblr.com/) here. thank you for reading!
> 
> Xx


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